Haræen and the Mines of Moria
by Jetainia
Summary: The Fellowship of the Ring encounter a stranger who saves them from the cave troll. His name is Haræen and he does not break his promises. MoD!Harry Oneshot


Gandalf had heard tell of another Istari, one sent before he and his four companions had made the journey. He had always assumed that the other Istari had fallen or been recalled, now it seemed he was given proof that wasn't the case. In front of him and the rest of the Fellowship stood a young man with black hair who had just taken down the attacking troll by levitating its own weapon above its head and dropping said weapon.

The man grinned at the nine travellers, "My friend did that in my first year of school, one of the best ways I know of defeating a troll."

"Well, we thank you for your aid, you seem to have arrived at a most opportune time."

"Think nothing of it, it was the least I could do." He turned to Gimli and knelt down on one knee, bowing his head, "I am very sorry Master Dwarf that I could not help the rest of your kind. Had I arrived earlier I might have been able to help them drive back the goblins. As it is, I wish you would accept my pledge to clean out the great halls of Moria of the filth that now plagues them so that they may be able to once again host those of your race."

Gimli looked at the man knelt before him with tears in his eyes, his brothers were dead and there was nothing that would bring them back and yet here was a man offering to get revenge on those who had killed dwarves only. "Rise, Friend and Brother, for your words and deeds and true."

The man glanced up startled before bowing his head again, "I thank you Master Dwarf for your kindness and acceptance. I will do all I can to be worthy of the honour you have given me."

Gimli smiled at the man, "Just kill as many of those bastards as you can, got it? And my name is Gimli, brother. What is yours?"

"I am called Haræen, brother Gimli."

"Well, now that that whatever that was is out of the way, can someone tell me what's going on?"

Gandalf chuckled at the hobbit's words, "Our new friend and Gimli have forged a brother bond, my good Pippin."

"Ah," the hobbit said wisely before stepping back to start a whispered conversation with Merry.

"Thank you for your help, again, Haræen. I am Legolas, this is Aragorn, Gandalf, Boromir, Pippin, Merry, Sam and Frodo." The elf pointed out each member of their group as he named them and Haræen greeted them all with a smile and a nod.

"Perhaps you would join us on our quest, Haræen, I am su-"

Gandalf was cut off suddenly as Haræen lifted his head sharply, "You must go," he ordered, "there is more danger here than a troll. Come."

The Fellowship quickly followed the dwarf brother as he bounded down hallways, running and yelling for them to run faster. It soon became clear what they were running from, flames followed them, roars shook the walls. "A Balrog," Gandalf gasped as he ran.

"Yes and it will destroy you all unless you manage to get away, the bridge is near," Haræen yelled back at the Istari, increasing his pace.

Even running as fast as they could, they could not fully outrun the Balrog. It caught up to them just as they were crossing the bridge with flames rising higher as they fled. Both Gandalf and Haræen spurred on the others in the group as they took a stand in the middle of the bridge.

"You should go Gandalf, this is not your fight," Haræen murmured to the at his side.

"Nor is it yours, Haræen and yet I do not see you going anywhere."

"Perhaps we are fools, or perhaps those that stay and hope instead of fleeing further are the fools."

"We are all fools in one or another," Gandalf commented and Haræen grinned at him.

"I like you, call me Harry in the little time we have left, if I am to die here I should like fond memories to accompany me."

"And if you do not die here, Harry?"

"Well, I will have made a new friend, which is an even better memory."

The two shared a grin and raised their weapons in preparation to fight the oncoming Balrog. Gandalf with his sword and staff, Harry with just his sword and an empty hand. The Balrog roared at the two blocking its path to the others it could see, one of which was a dwarf.

"You cannot pass," Gandalf said firmly as he stood side by side with Harry.

"Yeah, what he said." The Balrog roared again and attacked with a flaming sword, a sword that was deflected by the white shield conjured by both Harry and Gandalf.

"You _shall not pass_!" Gandalf bellowed and the Balrog conjured a whip of flame to use against its adversaries. Haræen lunged at the creature as Gandalf brought his staff down with a sharp crack on the small bridge. There was a huge crack as the bridge broke in half, the Balrog and Harry falling with the remains of the half they were on.

There was a cry from the onlookers as they watched their new companion fall from sight and Gandalf himself was kneeling at the very edge trying to see if there was any way Harry could have survived. The whip came flying up and caught the Istari, pulling him over the edge as he held on desperately.

"Fly, you fools," he ordered as he realised there was nothing he could do and the whip dragged him down with it as another cry came from the hobbit who had just seen two people fall to their deaths so that he could continue on his journey.

The Fellowship looked on in shock as their friend and, for Gimli, brother vanished. However they knew they could not stay in the halls of Moria for very long, the goblins would come back eventually and they knew that the two who had given their lives would not want their deaths to be in vain, they ran.

Far below them, Haræen and Gandalf were fighting the Balrog on its own turf as it sought to kill them. It took both of them combined and a struggle that lasted for years and minutes to defeat the creature. Gandalf was severely wounded at the end and knew that his end was near. Then a hand was on his forehead and he felt darkness filling him as it led him to light.

"Fly, you fool," was all he heard before the light swallowed him up and Gandalf the Grey was gone.

"That was a very reckless thing to do, Master Haræen," scolded the figure in black.

Haræen just grinned and shrugged, "Yeah well, I figured the kid could use some help."

"Kid? To those travelling with him, he was an old and wise man."

"To them, sure. To me, he's a kid, just like pretty much everyone else that isn't you or your buddies Death. Now could you let back to Moria, I actually do want to kill as many of those bastards as I can. Plus I swore that I would make Moria habitable once more, I will not break my oath."

Death nodded, "Very well, would you like me to accompany you?"

"Nah, I got this," Harry waved a hand dismissively but paused at the sight of Death _pouting_. He backpedalled quickly, "or, you know, you can come if you want. I just thought that what with you being so busy and all you wouldn't want to bother with a few pesky goblins."

"Harry Potter," Harry winced at his original name, Death was not happy. "The last time I got to go around killing everything that came into sight was four hundred years ago. You will _not_ deprive me of a chance to unleash my scythe as freely as I wish, do you understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, I understand, geez. I already said you could come, would you please stop biting my head off?"

Death calmed for a moment before bouncing up and down like an excited child, "Really? I can come with you and kill all the goblins?"

"Yes, you can, Death. Of course you can," Harry smiled fondly at the being, there were times when Harry would think of Death as his own child and others where Death acted more like an irate mother.

It was something he wouldn't give up for the world, Death had been alone for so long when Harry had inadvertently gathered all the Deathly Hallows and become Master of Death. His first experience had been that of a sobbing black cloak throwing itself at him after Dumbledore had vanished from the King's Cross in his mind.

Harry had quickly come to learn that while death was a constant in all worlds, the being had been isolated since the Peverell's had bested Death and caused three objects to be made. In that time, Death had gone slightly mad and would occasionally come to Harry's side for a yearlong cuddle, assurance that Harry had not vanished.

They had needed each other, they still did, and there was nothing Harry wouldn't do for someone who needed him. Together, Harry Potter and Death went into the Mines of Moria and started their campaign of killing every malign foreigner that had dared enter the home of the Dwarves.

After the Ring had been destroyed Gimli made his way back to Moria, his brother had died there killing one of the biggest bastards there was. Gimli swore to himself that he would make Moria the city that it once was. He footsteps grew heavier as he drew nearer to the mines, dreading the sight that would once again be before his eyes.

He had with him several other dwarves ready to claim back their home from goblins and whatever other nasties may have settled there. All of them were armed to the teeth, they knew they might die but they would die knowing their race was one step closer to having a safe haven back. They had arrived at the entrance to Moria now and Gimli, along with his contingent of warriors took several deep breaths before stepping into the caverns.

What they had not expected to see was a floor littered with goblin carcasses and laughter echoing towards them from further inside. The dwarves looked around nervously before hefting their weapons and heading towards the noise, ready to fight if necessary. The scene they came across was even stranger than the one they had left behind.

A man was twirling around the large room slashing at the numerous goblins attacking him while a figure in a black cloak was sweeping through the goblins trying to run away with a scythe. The very fact that goblins were running away from two fighters was shocking, that the two were laughing and trading quips back and forth as they slaughtered was a sight none had seen before.

Gimli was the first to get his bearings back, "Well don't just stand there, let's give them a hand with these bastards."

With that said, he charged into the battle with his axe carving a path in front of him. The other dwarves followed his example, all of them jumping into the fray and soon, the goblins in the room were all dead. Then came the second shock as the two original fighters stopped moving enough for Gimli to see the face of the uncloaked one.

The one who was coming towards him with a smile holding both pride and sheepishness. Haræen knelt before him and said, "My brother, I have nearly completed the task I took upon myself when you gave me permission to do so. The mines are clear, all that remains are repairs and then the beauty of Moria shall be restored."

"Haræen, how? Gandalf did not inform us you had come back as well."

The black haired, green eyed man grinned, "So that young fool made his way back, I am glad."

A dwarf nearby snorted, "Young? Are ye thinking of the same person? Gandalf is as old as they come."

"Ah, but he is not as old as me, therefore he is young," Haræen replied, still smiling.

"How did you come back, Haræen?" Gimli asked, "And stand up, there is no need for brothers to kneel to each other."

Harry did so and explained in a way that would not make the dwarves shrink back from him and his silent companion in fear. "I am one of the first Istari, my task is not yet complete nor shall it be complete for a long time yet. Until that day comes, I will be here, watching over that which needs watching over."

"Well then, we better make the most of our time together. Tonight, we shall have a party and tomorrow we will begin restoring Moria," Gimli declared to the approval of those around him, dwarves were always ready for a party.

Haræen whooped in joy and started vanishing bodies to make a clean area for such a party, as he passed Death he sent a silent message to the being who nodded in agreement and disappeared from sight. The clean-up crew consisted of Harry, Gimli and two other volunteers while the rest went off in search of essential party supplies such as mead, barrels and barrels of mead.

The sun was setting when the gatherers returned and they were not alone, with them was the Fellowship and their friends along with the same hooded figure that had been fighting alongside Haræen. Only now the hood was down and a pale man with hair and eyes the colour of blackest night was revealed.

The considerably larger group partied long into the night, trading stories and boasts. Elves and dwarves were mingling happily while hobbits sang shanties and danced upon tables. Death, known as Mortimer to the partiers, was constantly hounded for the many stories the being could tell. Harry was pulled to one side by Gandalf, as the Istari asked his question.

Harry smiled at him, "Yes, I am the Istari you have heard of, though I was not sent down here like you were. I made my choice and my companion happened to agree with me. He tells the story better than me however, perhaps we should inquire if Mortimer would mind telling our story next."

And so, the next story told by Death was the story of a young boy whose parents had been killed by an evil man and how a great destiny had been thrust onto him, a destiny he had fulfilled at great cost to himself and his friends.


End file.
